The Dark Forest
by desertredwolf
Summary: Dark! Supernatural! AU. Colin learns why the Forbidden Forest is actually forbidden. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights go to respective owners.**

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Prompt ( _This is Halloween! — Harry Potter's World_ ): Write a story that relies on a supernatural element not present in canon. Ouija boards, demon possessions, let your imagination run wild!

Prompt ( _Year-Long Scavenger Hunt — Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges_ ): (genre) Supernatural [10 points]

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 **A/N — This story was inspired by the haunted and dark forests of the world, from the Devil's Tramping Ground in North Carolina, USA to the Hoia-Baciu Woods in Romania. Despite our exploration into the unknown, there are still wild and dangerous pockets of the world that have yet to be seen, or even found.**

 **And sometimes, that might be for the best.**

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 **The Dark Forest**

 _Most witches and wizards would consider the world settled and understood. And, in the rare situation when something unexplainable did happen, there was always magic, controlled by wands and standardized spells, to fall back on. Magic had become their safety net. But modern witches and wizards had forgotten their history — and the struggles they faced against the wilds of the world in ages long since past._

 _They had forgotten the Fey, the Queens of the Winter and Summer Courts, the Spirits of the primeval forests, the ancient rituals of the solstices — all had faded from memory._

 _And that was a mistake._

.oOo.

In another age, the Forbidden Forest on the edge of Hogwarts' grounds would have been considered wild and Dark.

But that was not the current way of the world. Despite the setting sun and deepening shadows, many considered the Forest just that: a forest. The centaurs and Acromantula were feared, of course, but if one didn't stray too far into the tangled trees, they would be fine. Even Hagrid, infamous for meeting the centaurs deep in the woods, stayed relatively close to safety.

No one knew the Darkness that lurked deep within the ancient trees.

So how should have Colin known better than to take his year mates' dare?

"Come on, Colin!" his year mates had taunted him earlier that day. "Where's that Gryffindor courage? Harry's been in the Forest!"

He hadn't wanted to go. But the prospect of photographing centaurs with his new wizard's camera, and his fellow students' taunts about not living up to his idol, were too much. Just before evening curfew (Edgar had sworn that was the time centaurs were most active) Colin had snuck out of Gryffindor Tower. He made his way, unnoticed, into the Forbidden Forest.

In the beginning, he had made his way quite easily down one of the main paths, moonlight breaking through the scraggily leaves. He traveled deeper into the forest, perhaps deeper than he should have, trying to find the elusive centaurs. And it was somewhere along that trail, long after midnight, that he felt it.

A cold wash of power and magic.

Senses on high alert, he withdrew his wand.

"Hello?" he shouted. "Is anyone there?"

Absolute silence fell in the forest; what little wildlife there was in the area had immediately quieted, before a large object rapidly glided across the forest floor behind Colin.

"Stupefy!" he shouted, as he spun toward the sound.

The spell crackled through the air and exploded against a boulder, ten feet off the path. Suddenly, the sound of rapid movement exploded behind Colin and a violent force knocked him off his feet. It was only due to the fact that he had spent six years in the wizarding world that he hadn't dropped his wand. Before he could stand, he felt skeletal hands grab his ankles and drag him off the path.

"HELP!" he screamed.

He kicked and screamed, but the cold hands only gripped him tighter. It was in the process of shooting curses blindly behind him, that Colin accidentally snapped a photo. Light flashed and the being dragging him let out an unearthly shriek, unintentionally loosening its grip.

The hair stood up on the back of Colin's neck, but one thought was clear in his mind as he bolted free:

The monster hated the light.

Ignoring the fact that he was most likely snapping photos of the ground and sky, Colin rapidly clicked the shutter button and tried to find the path back to safety. For a few panicked heartbeats, he couldn't find the trail, but then it materialized before him.

Not stopping to think, he ran down it towards safety, the monster crashing through the forest behind him.

Frenzied moments followed. At one point, Colin tripped and dropped his camera. Cursing, he shot a spell over his shoulder and grabbed his camera.

The monster drew closer.

He ran.

And ran.

Except the path he ran on didn't lead him to safety.

Instead, the trail wound through the Forest, leading him deeper into darkness. The trees, which had grown proud and straight along the edge near the castle grounds, were now twisted and warped. They seemed to all be pointing toward the Dark center of the Forest.

Too late to turn around, Colin, still shooting spells into the dense trees and snapping photos, could only hope that the path would lead him elsewhere.

( _Fate was not on his side._ )

Abruptly turning the corner, he entered a burnt and dead clearing, filled with Dark energy. The trees all bent toward the center, as if an evil and unnatural force had pulled them in.

There was no where to run.

Turning toward the crashing sounds, he raised his wand in one last stand.

( _The Forest swallowed his screams._ )

.oOo.

When Colin's friends couldn't find him at breakfast the next morning, they immediately told Professor McGonagall, who immediately told Dumbledore. A search team — including Dumbledore, McGonagall, Hagrid, Madame Bones, and twenty Aurors — was quickly assembled. The centaurs even assisted.

They searched for three days and found nothing.

On the fourth day, Dumbledore walked alone into the Forest. He returned as the sun was setting, holding Colin's wand and camera. When asked where he had found them, and if there was any sign of Colin, he shook his head and wouldn't answer the questions.

All he would say was that they had to develop the photographs as soon as possible.

.oOo.

 _An off-kilter photo of shadows and tree branches, moonlight peeking through dark leaves._

 _A photo, this time sideways and from the Forest floor (the camera had clearly been dropped), capturing a dark path surrounded by ancient and twisted trees — with what looked like an unnaturally tall, shadowed figure running toward the camera._

 _Feet running through shrubbery and fallen leaves filled the frame of the next photograph._

 _Multiple shots of blurred backgrounds, lights of desperate spells, and blackness filled the remaining photos — until the last._

 _An ancient, ghostly-pale face, eyes completely jet black and sunken into its skull, silently screamed in unholy rage into the camera lens as the last photo had been snapped._

( _The worst thing about wizarding photographs is that they move._ )


End file.
